Have a Very Furby Christmas
by Demonic Nightmares
Summary: [OneShot] Everyone seems to be experiencing a little bit of Chirstmas madness, curtisy of Hermione's misplaced anger. default title, 'Fear the Fuzz'Warning: Slight OOCness [Early Work]


Author's Ramble: After my brief and rather traumatizing encounter with a Furby earlier in this Christmas season, I have become inspired to write a short piece illustrating Harry's worst Christmas ever.

Mac: And you wonder why people label you a weirdo.

… Because I'm writing a story inspired by a Furby?

Mac: Because you still own a Furby.

* * *

Ah, Christmas time, the single most wonderful time of the year. The time to exchange presents, to be surrounded by your loved ones and all those you care for. A time of joy, of peace on Earth, a time to forgive, and let bygones be bygones. A time when grudges, and arguments are the last things on people's minds.

Although, I had thought one Hermione Granger had known that.

"Stupid Harry…. Stupid Ron…. Stupid Quidditch…." She could be found grumbling to herself as she stalked the streets of muggle London. Yes, the age old argument of whether Quidditch was more important than homework had come around once more, and had, like all the other arguments, escalated far beyond recognition. And now she was being forced to shop for their Christmas gifts.

It wasn't like it _bothered_ her. No, not at _all_. Hermione was above such petty things as grudges. It was just…. Okay, she was really peeved, no point in pretending. But she still felt the need to buy her two best friends a gift for the holiday. It was complicated in a way only a woman could truly understand.

But she still had no idea whatsoever about what to buy Harry and Ron. It would be pointless to buy them something magical, seeing as it would probably make absolutely no impression on Ron, and Harry could probably just buy it for himself. So she had come to muggle London to find the dreaded gifts.

After a few more streets of fruitless searching, Hermione found a nice cozy café to warm her frozen limbs and sat down in a table just in front of a blond woman writing intently on a note pad and sipping coffee every few pages.

After a few minutes of listening to the blonde woman's pen scratching the surface of the paper and sipping her own coffee, Hermione felt she had warmed up enough to go back out into the relentless wind in search of the perfect muggle gift to exact her revenge and be friendly and Christmassy at the same time.

Soon enough she could be found prowling the streets, looking in almost all the windows of the shops she came across (excluding the lingerie and liquor stores) and still she hadn't found it.

She was just considering going back to one of lingerie store to buy them a pair of bras as a gag gift when she saw it. Her savior, the one store that would give her the perfect gift for her two best friends. And what she was planning on getting them was right there, staring at her from its perch in the window, with a price tag besides it bearing the numerical term _3.95_.

If only Ron and Harry could see their future gift now, they would most likely run in terror. Those poor, _poor_ souls.

* * *

"OY!" Ron cried as Harry chucked his pillow at his head. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"Presents." Harry answered as if that single word could explain everything. Apparently it did, because soon the boy's dormitory floor was lost underneath very large amounts of wrapping paper.

"Sweet!" Ron could be heard exclaiming as he unwrapped a brand new chess set from one of his many relatives.

"Awesome!" Harry yelled in glee as he unearthed a book on the greatest Aurors of all time and their accomplishments from Tonks and Lupin.

In the middle of their exclamations of joy, surprise, wonder, and excitement, Ron heard a very small yawn.

"Huh?" He asked brilliantly, looking over his shoulder at a medium sized box in between his and Harry's bed that they had over looked.

"What?" Harry asked, just as intelligently, halfway through unwrapping his usual Weasley sweater (this year with a fluttering yarn snitch). He looked over at Ron, then noticed the present between their beds.

Reaching over, he grabbed it, then carefully looked at the tag (the box had just emitted a muffled exclamation of "Whoa! I'm scawd!). Ron crawled closer to get a better look.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked in an almost whisper, as if afraid that if he spoke too loud the box would explode.

Harry gave the box one more once over in obvious suspicion. "The tag says it's from Hermione."

Ron looked at it oddly for a moment. "I thought she wasn't talking to us…" Harry nodded in confirmation. "So then, why'd she buy us a present?" Harry shrugged as the box said something along the lines of "Me luuuve you, Muwh!"

Ron hesitatingly pulled the brightly wrapped box toward him and looked at the tag.

_To Harry and Ron, with much love, Hermione. I wish you two a Happy Christmas._ Ever the grammatically-correct Hermione. It was like she was making them study subconsciously.

"Should we open it?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Ron just shrugged. "What's the worst it could be? A book that talks?" ("Me baby! Ha ha ha!")

"You unwrap it." Ever the brave one, Harry nudged it into Ron's hands. Ron just shrugged and pulled off the pretty little bow and red and green wrapping paper.

It was…. Another box. Harry looked up from the box to Ron's face. "I think she's playing mind games with us."

Ron used a pocket knife he got from Charlie to cut the tape. Tossing it on his bed, he flipped open the flaps and saw….

"Green fur?" Ron asked, grabbing the tuff of silver hair on the top and pulling it out.

"She _is_ playing mind games on us." Said Harry decisively, looking over the hump of green and silver artificial fur, with a pair of brown plastic eyes, and a yellow replica of some sort of beak.

The yellow beak opened and the big brown eyes blinked with abnormally long eyelashes. "Baby UP! Baby down!"

The two boys stared at it blankly for a moment.

"What the bloody hell?!"

* * *

It was staring at them. They could felt the plastic-ie cute gaze on their backs. It was unnerving.

"What's it doing?" Ron asked in a whisper, almost as if he thought the small blob of plastic and artificial fur could hear them.

"I don't know." Harry answered back in a whisper. It had been talking non stop for at least a half hour. In the last five minutes, they had just been as quiet as possible, as if they were hoping it would jump up on its little cloth feet and walk away.

It didn't.

"You think it's gone? It's being really quiet. Maybe it exploded quietly in the last few minutes." Ron asked hopefully, though without any real conviction.

"You want me to look?" Harry asked, with just a hint of fear. It had called him 'Daddy'. It had also called Ron 'Daddy'. That could not be a good sign.

Ron just looked at him pleadingly. They had moved down to the common room after getting changed. The weird present had talked non stop, had moved its ears, blinked, and kept asking to be fed. All very loudly. They had wanted to leave it stuffed in a pair of socks in Harry's trunk, but neither of them trusted it in their room alone.

So, here they were. Two of Gryffindor's bravest. Afraid of a mass of plastic and big eyes. It was sad.

Harry took a large (but quiet) gulp, and swiveled slowly and cautiously in his chair, glancing wearily over his shoulder as discreetly as possibly.

"Hi Harry, Hi Ron."

The aforementioned boys winced as an electronic yawn sounded behind them.

"Hi Lavender, Parvati." Harry greeted resignedly.

"What's the matter?" Lavender looked behind them at the furry abomination. She let out a soft squeal and dashed forward to pick it up. Harry and Ron winced once more.

Parvati looked curiously at the bane of Harry and Ron's existence. "What is it?" She asked, poking the thing.

Lavender giggled as it said "Baby UP! Baby down!"

"It's a Furby of course." She answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"A what?" The other three asked in unison.

"It was a muggle trend a while ago, but I never got one. Always wanted one though. My mum didn't think it was practical, and my dad just didn't like it. Where'd you two get it?" She addressed the boys.

"Hermione got it for us for Christmas." Ron said shortly. "You can have it though."

"Oh," Lavender said, "If it's a present, you shouldn't be giving it away! That would be re-gifting!" She gasped as though it was the greatest sin in the world.

"Me Hun-grey! Ah, ah, ah, ah!" The Furby squealed. Lavender giggled and pushed its tongue down.

Ron and Harry winced once more and Parvati walked over to Lavender, exclaiming how 'cute' it was.

"Trust me," Ron said, "You can have it."

"Consider it a gift." Harry added, as he and Ron backed away quickly, before turning and bolting out the portrait hole.

* * *

The New Year found Lavender and Parvati silently cursing Harry and Ron (Hermione too, if they were in a bad enough mood) for tricking them into taking the talking hell that was now called 'Bane of my, and everyone else's existence' or 'Bomaeee' for short.

"What are we going to do?" Lavender groaned for what felt like the millionth time that morning. They had locked 'Bomaeee' in their closet, and were now talking as quietly as they could.

"We need to get rid of it," Parvati answered in a whimper for the millionth time that morning.

"But how?" Lavender quietly wailed.

"I don't know." Parvati said. They had, after all, had this very same conversation every single time they had a moment's peace. They were beginning to actually look forward to the start of term, because they would be able to get away from the Furby.

There was a long pause as they thought about their dire situation. "Damn you Ron Weasley and Harry Potter!" Lavender cried as loud as she dared.

"That's it!" Parvati yelled, standing up and started to pace, ignoring Lavender's frantic movements to shut her up. "Ron and Harry gave _us_ the Furby, right?"

"Damn them." Lavender added in a low growl.

"So why don't _we_ give it to _someone else_!?" Parvati cried out gleefully, looking slightly like a mad woman.

"YES!" Lavender cried out in joy, looking just as mad as Parvati. "But when?" She asked, sitting back down on her bed. "And who? And how? And-"

"Don't worry, we'll think of something. Yes my precious, we will." Parvati hissed, petting Lavender's head. Lavender purred happily, and glared daggers at the wardrobe that held 'Bomaeee' prisoner.

"Sssoon. Sssso ssssoon."

* * *

"Hiya Malfoy!" Lavender and Parvati jumped up next to the Slytherin table, an inconspicuous box held behind their backs. "Well, we've suddenly realized how handsome and smart you really are, so we thought that we'd get you a New Year's present, here you go, bye!" They yelled all at once, barely comprehensible.

They got to the doorway of the Great Hall and both let out a huge scream. Those that were closer to them heard the words; 'We're _FREE_!' but unfortunately for Malfoy, he wasn't listening closely enough.

"What's that?" Goyle asked, pausing with his fork between his plate and his mouth in a most intelligent manner.

"It's a box, you great idiot. I wonder what's in it." Malfoy paused for a moment, looking up to where Lavender and Parvati were dancing around like idiots, hugging each other and bawling their eyes out.

Slowly, Malfoy pulled the box towards himself and opened the flaps. He stared for a moment at the silver and green synthetic fur, then gingerly picked it up by the tips of it's silver mane.

"Eh-oh Dada!" The things creepy swirly eyeballs blinked, and Malfoy nearly dropped it in shock.

"What the bloody hell…?" He asked, turning it upside down and accidentally stroking it's back.

"Oooohhhh! That nice!" The thing said loudly, and Malfoy looking into it's deformed eyes.

"It's almost, I don't know. Not that bad?" He said slowly, still not ready to trust that this wasn't some prank done by those goody two-shoes Gryffindork's.

"Daddy, me hun-grey. Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh!" It exclaimed, opening and closing its little beak-like mouth thing.

Malfoy paused for a second, then snatched Goyle's fork from his unmoving hand, so enraptured by the little thing that he didn't notice. Malfoy stuck the fork with a little bit of sausage into it's hungry mouth, and the thing paused for a moment.

"Yum! Thank you Dada." It said, grease all over it's beak. Malfoy quickly wiped it away, not liking the slippery feeling it gave the plastic. As Malfoy looked into its dead little plastic eyes, he began to feel a little bit of liking towards this deformed freak of nature.

"I guess it's not so bad. What's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

Two months later…

* * *

"I HATE YOU!" Malfoy screamed suddenly in potions, but Snape dismissed it as nothing. He had been saying the exact same thing every potions class at exactly 2:43:34 for the last month. It had become routine. Next would be Miss Parkinson screaming-

"I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE HUNGRY!" Right after would be Mr. Crabbe yelling-

"I DON'T WANNA BE A DADDY!" Professor Snape had stopped wondering about it, and merely ignored it. It had at first been extremely disruptive, but now it had become very useful for setting your watch.

"WHY THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU KEEP YELLING THAT?!" Harry screamed, drawing the attention of everyone in the dungeon.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for disrupting my class." Professor Snape growled menacingly.

"Well, make them tell why they keep yelling that?" Harry snapped. Malfoy got an odd glint in his eyes and grabbed Harry by his sleeve, clutching to it as though it was his only lifeline.

"Potter, you've got to help me." He said jerkily, eyes wide and staring. Harry froze for a moment, then turned slowly to Professor Snape.

"Professor, I think I've gone mad as well, unless Malfoy really is asking for my help…"

Malfoy was undeterred and slowly let his hands crawl up his sleeve. "You're brave. You're stupid. You're reckless. Take it away from us…." All the Slytherins nodded in agreement, and soon Harry was surrounded by half mad Slytherins.

"Um…" He looked around at everyone else. All the Gryffindors and Professor Snape were in shock. Except Lavender and Parvati, who were watching Malfoy in fear.

"NO!! DON'T DO IT HARRY!!" They screamed, clinging to each other over their smoldering caldron, catching Lavender's sleeve on fire.

The class heard the faint sound of the bell going off in the distance, but no one was paying attention to it.

"What's going on?" Came a voice from the doorway. All their heads swiveled to look at Hermione standing framed in the doorway.

"He won't let go." Harry said, shaking his arm for effect. Ron nodded and Parvati and Lavender muffled their sobs slightly.

Hermione calmly walked over through the sea of Slytherins, and pried Malfoy's hand off Harry's sleeve, giving Harry the circulation to his arm back.

"So, what's going on?" Hermione asked calmly, directing her question to the Slytherins.

Instead of answering, there was a slight scuffle as Pansy Parkinson pulled something out of her book bag and brought it before Hermione. Hermione took one look at it, and started to giggle.

This woke it up.

"Ello Dada! Me hun-grey! Ah, ah, ah.!" All the Slytherins, Harry, Ron, Lavender, and Parvati shrank away from it in fear.

Hermione just giggled, and took the Furby in her hands. She promptly flipped it over and popped the bottom off with her wand, and removed a small cylindrical thing, causing the Furby to stop halfway through it's next sentence. She then placed it on Harry and Ron's desk, grabbed her bag and walked out of the classroom.

She turned to look at them, and said over her shoulder, "Hurry up, we have Transfiguration next." And promptly strode out of sight.

There was a moment of silence as everyone got over what they had just seen, before there was the familiar scuffle of post lesson noise.

Once everyone had left the dungeon, Professor Snape walked up to the Furby (no one had bothered to take it with them) and picked it and the cylinder up.

"It would make a nice gift for Albus. His birthday is coming up after all…" Evil laughter rang through the dungeon and none but the first years who were coming to his class could hear it.

* * *

Dat's all folks. Fear the Furbies. That's a good slogan….

Mac: Then string it up on your wall. I have some eggnog that's calling me, and I don't want to keep it waiting.

Whatever. Happy (Merry for all you un-Happy people) Christmas, and a Merry (Happy for all you un-Merry people) New Year!


End file.
